High and Dry
by Faikitty
Summary: In which Kristoph and Klavier go on a date that isn't a date, Klavier is a celebrity as usual, and Kristoph is possessive. Kristoph/Klavier. Request from a friend.


**A/N:** I'm... not really an incest person. It could have something to do with the squick aspect when you have an older sibling of your own. In any case, here's yet another type of fic that I used to swear I'd never write. But this was a request from a close friend of mine, so I couldn't refuse. Besides, I have to admit that part of me sort of likes this pairing. So.

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Klavier doesn't really want to be here, which is odd, all things considered. It combines three of his favorite things: free publicity, fancy restaurants, and his brother. The third is debatable. Kristoph's mood changes with the wind, and even if his outward appearance rarely changes, his treatment of Klavier does.

Tonight Klavier is lucky. Kristoph is in one of his better moods, having just won a trial that morning without a single hitch. Klavier would almost have looked forward to the dinner, if not for the knowledge that when his brother is in such high spirits, he drinks a lot, and when he drinks a lot, he tends to be overly affectionate. Still, the prosecutor knows he can't refuse, not when Kristoph looks at him with his hand on the bridge of his glasses, devil's scar vibrant and threatening to drudge up memories better left forgotten.

Klavier is unsurprised to see that Kristoph has called in reservations for them in a small but high class restaurant in a quiet corner of town. The low hum of chatter fills the air along with soft, jazzy music, and the lighting is dim. It, along with the largely maroon color scheme, gives the place a pleasant sort of ambience.

Also unsurprising is that Klavier's fears of his brother's drinking are realized almost immediately. By the time the appetizer arrives, Kristoph has already downed four glasses of scotch, and by the way his eyes keep drifting back to the alcohol section on the menu, he intends to drink more. Klavier, for one, is content to simply swirl a glass of red wine around and munch on calamari. He watches his brother make polite conversation with the waitress, who, Klavier notices, keeps casting sideways glances at _him_. Each time her eyes shift from Kristoph's, the man's eyes follow to land on Klavier's face and narrow.

_Don't do that, fräulein. Don't—_

A few seconds later, the girl seems to finally work up the nerve to edge her way to Klavier's side of the table. "Could I… have an autograph? You're Klavier, from the Gavinners," she says shyly, and Klavier mentally sighs as he sees his brother's eyes flash.

"I am." He gives her his award winning smile and motions to her to lean down. She does so immediately with a blush dying the tips of her ears red as his lips brush the edge of one. "Pretty fräulein, I don't want to cause a scene. Since you seem to be the only one who has recognized me, please stay quiet. I'll give you an autograph _after_ dinner if you'll do that for me."

The waitress stands and nods quickly, and at an overly loud cough from Kristoph that makes her jump, she returns to his side of the table.

"I'd like gewürztraminer to drink," he says after a long pause. "Please."

"Right away, sir. Have you decided on food yet?"

Kristoph raises an eyebrow and holds the menus out to her. "We've already ordered." His face is pleasant and voice amused, but his eyes show his obvious impatience with the woman. "Were you distracted while taking our orders, by any chance?"

"I-I— My apologies, sir," she stutters, flustered as she takes the menus from his hand. "I'll return shortly."

Klavier offers her an apologetic smile as she practically flees. His smile fades as his brother's disapproving eyes stare him down. "What? Did you want me to let her announce to the entire restaurant that there's a rock star in their midst?" he asks, defensiveness mingling with smugness and teasing that he _knows_ he'll pay for later.

"Of course not," Kristoph responds with a slight quirk of his lips, but he doesn't elaborate.

The rest of the meal passes largely without incident. The conversation stays centered on Kristoph's achievements in court that morning, and the man in question succeeds in drinking enough to make his face flushed but not to make his words slurred. Well, not _that_ slurred at least. Their waitress keeps her promise and doesn't tell anyone else about Klavier's presence. In fact, she doesn't mention the autograph again, not even when the bill is paid and Klavier is helping his brother into a fitted coat. It isn't until Klavier has his scarf around his neck and is inches from the door that she approaches again.

"Oh? You've returned. Here for your autograph?" he asks pleasantly as Kristoph leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "Just give me a pen and paper and I'll sign it for you."

"Oh, I um… I don't have a pen, so…" The girl fidgets, takes a deep breath, and suddenly presses her lips against Klavier's. He doesn't jerk away, but he doesn't return the kiss either. It isn't the first time something like this has happened, after all. He can hear a low hiss from Kristoph, and he squeezes his eyes closed for one second before setting his hands on the girl's shoulders to push her away gently. She glances up and bites her lip before turning and hurrying away, embarrassment radiating from every part of her.

Klavier puts his hand on his brother's upper arm and guides him outside before he has a chance to follow the poor girl. Having to prosecute his brother in a murder trial isn't something he wants to do. "Such a brave fräulein," he chuckles as they start on their way. "My fans aren't usually so very… assertive." He looks over at his brother. Kristoph's eyes are fixed straight forward, and he doesn't reply, earning a sigh from Klavier as the younger man gives up. It makes for a long and uncomfortably quiet walk home without conversation.

It's a relief to finally get home and be able to have a silence that _isn't_ so awkward. Klavier removes his scarf and is in the process of taking off his coat when a hand suddenly spins him around and pushes him against the wall, palm against his chest. Lips press against his and he can taste roses and cinnamon in the lingering scent of wine on the other man's breath. Kristoph is _far_ from gentle, even more so than usual. His tongue is hot as it slips between Klavier's lips, and the younger man can't keep a low groan from escaping him when a shiver runs down his spine.

When Kristoph pulls away, hand still on Klavier's chest and a final nip on his lower lip, Klavier's eyes are downcast and his face crimson. "That wasn't very nice, Kristoph," he murmurs, still breathless. He still isn't used to this, feeling like a damn blushing school girl with the other man when _he_ is usually the one to make _women_ behave like this.

Kristoph smirks and straightens his glasses with his free hand, and Klavier half wonders if he'll ever let up on his chest. "It wasn't very nice of _you_ to allow that woman to kiss you," he comments. He presses forward again so that he's inches from Klavier's face. "I was merely reclaiming what's mine."

Klavier doesn't protest as Kristoph kisses along his jaw and down his neck. "Sorry," he mutters, and another kiss silences him.

"Remember: you're mine."

Klavier can't find it in himself to argue, not when the words send electricity through his body like this, so he wraps his arms around Kristoph's neck with a soft sigh. "I'm yours."


End file.
